


Animal Instincts

by Bunnywest



Series: Thank you fics. [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Peter Hale is a BAMF, reference to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:59:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: The stranger shrugs, saying “It’s fine. Dogs don’t seem to like me, never have.”The words set off a tiny alarm bell in Stiles’ head, because he remembers his dad always saying “if a dog doesn’t like ‘em, I don’t like ‘em. Can’t beat animal instinct, son. Never forget it.”





	Animal Instincts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chef_Geekier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chef_Geekier/gifts).



> for Chef_Geekier, who prompted  
> "As a prompt, I'd love to see more of Stiles' dog! Maybe something where this enormous friendly floof takes an instant dislike to a new person and gets all growly, keeping himself between the new person and his pack. Everyone's confused, then Peter meets the new person as well and his instincts align with Odin's to go 'nope, nope, nope, kill the intruder', and of course the person turns out to be a douche/evil hunter/threat in some form."

Odin’s possibly the most useless guard dog in the world.

Despite his size and his battle scars, the only way he’s likely to stop an intruder is if they trip over him as he lays in front of them waiting for a belly rub.

But as Stiles points out  “He’s not here to be a guard dog. He’s here to be awesome, aren’t you big guy?” he coos, rubbing his hands through the dog’s thick coat.

Odin responds by nudging his head further into Stiles’ lap, waiting patiently for the scratch behind his ears that they both know is his favorite thing in the world.

 

And Odin loves everyone. He doesn’t discriminate – every visitor leaves with the special gift of Odin drool on their clothing, or possibly their face if he decides they’re worthy of a lick. Nobody seems to mind though, or if they do they don’t comment on it to Stiles. Odin’s constant drooling is a result of a firework going off in his face, and Stiles is very sensitive about his baby’s disfigurement. Mention it at the risk of being shown the door.

So nobody’s more surprised when Odin starts barking and snarling at the man at the door, showing his teeth and scrambling to get at the stranger. Stiles grabs his collar and holds him in place easily, brow furrowed.

“Sorry man, he doesn’t normally get like that. I’ll put him out back” he tells the man, physically lifting Odin off the floor and carrying him outside, because it’s easier than dragging him. Once they’re out of sight of their visitor Odin stops growling and barking, instead whining urgently at Stiles as he closes the door ad leaves him outside.

 

* * *

 

 

Odin’s faithful to the wolfpeople he lives with now. They smell safe, and they treat him well, and nobody ever hits him with sticks.

He loves them, as much as it’s possible for his doggy brain to do so, and he’ll do anything to protect them. Definitely the one with bright smile, but also the one with the face hair who sneaks him bacon when he thinks bright smile man isn’t looking, like it’s their secret.

They smell like _safe_ and _home,_ and Odin likes those smells a lot, even though his sense of smell is greatly diminished after the time with the _hotburnpainflash._ Odin doesn’t like to think about that time.

But the person at the door? Even with his barely there olfactory nerves, Odin can smell _wronghurtdangerpain_ on them, and he goes into a frenzy of protectiveness, barking and snarling, in an effort to get them to leave, and now he’s been taken away, and how can he protect his wolfpeople if he’s out here?

He starts to howl piteously.

* * *

 

 

Stiles goes back to the front door where his visitor’s waiting patiently, and apologizes again, especially when Odin starts howling loudly.

The stranger shrugs, saying “It’s fine. Dogs don’t seem to like me, never have.”

The words set off a tiny alarm bell in Stiles’ head, because he remembers his dad always saying “if a dog doesn’t like ‘em, I don’t like ‘em. Can’t beat animal instinct, son. Never forget it.”

But he shrugs the feeling off, for now, and invites the man inside.

“So, you’re interested in managing Jungle?’ Stiles starts.

He knows it’s not ideal, interviewing in the home, but peter had said he’d be here, and with the way their schedules are at the moment, it was the most practical solution.

Ami’s beyond busy, and so is Stiles, and so they’ve agreed it’s time to put a new permanent manager in place at the club.

The applications have been far from stellar so far, but this guy seems to fit the bill, on paper at least.

Stiles talks to him about his experience managing  clubs on the east coast, querying the reason for his seemingly spotty work history – it seems that he changes jobs every six months, but the man (Eric) explains it away smoothly, citing various reasons for his move from job to job – the hours were too long, the assistant manager was a racist, it was too far from home – all perfectly valid reasons.

Stiles ascertains that the man’s fully aware that this is a) a gay club, and b) caters to Weres and c) is famous for its pole dancers.

“I couldn’t think of anything better than a club full of gay werewolves” Eric says, smiling, and Stiles feels the alarm bells go off again, and it’s not helped by Odin continuing to howl.

This time he doesn’t ignore it, but instead tells Eric “Listen, man, I was hoping Peter would be here for this, because as Alpha he has the final say in everything I do (lie) and I’d never make a decision without his input (lie) because I respect his opinion ( not totally a lie). Can you come back later today it I text you a time when he’s here?”

Eric smiles his disconcerting smile again, and says smoothly “Certainly. I’d be honored to meet the great Alpha Hale” and there it goes again, something about the way he says it that Stiles can’t put his finger on.

Odin’s howling has reached epic proportions now, so they shake on it and Stiles ushers his visitor out, before going to see what the hell is wrong with his dog.

When he lets Odin back inside the dog pushes past him and races around sniffing, as if to check that the intruder’s gone, before coming over to Stiles and leaning heavily on his legs, rubbing himself against him.

“You’re a fuckin weirdo, you know that dog?” Stiles tells him affectionately. He sits on the couch and Odin immediately plops himself across his legs, effectively pinning him down as he licks at his face and makes himself at home.

When Peter comes home an hour later Stile is still sitting there, and the dog’s asleep.

He smiles at the sight, and nods at the dog, saying “Tell me again which one of you is in charge, rabbit?”

Stiles flips Peter off, and tells him “He was upset. He needed cuddles.”

“Why on earth was he upset, rabbit? He’s the most placid dog alive.”

“Normally, yeah” Stiles agrees with a wave of his hand, “But the guy came over to interview for the job and he went absolutely nuts, barking and snarling, trying to get to him, I think if he could have he would have taken his throat out, honestly. I had to lock him out the back before we could do the interview, and he howled the whole time. So, cuddles” he concludes, absently scratching at the dog’s head and ignoring the puddle of dog slobber on his leg.

Where goes Odin, there goes drool, after all.

“How was he? Do we want him for Jungle?” Peter asks, interested.

Stiles tilts his head, considering.

“Maybe? I mean, he has experience, and the Were thing didn’t seem to faze him, and he can start straight away.”

“But?” Peter prompts him.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I told him you’d have to talk to him because as pack Alpha you’re in charge” Stiles tells Peter, grinning.

Peter snorts.

“Now rabbit, it’s not nice to lie” he chides gently.

“Seriously though Peter, meet him, and tell me what you think. I need your opinion.”

“If you’d like. Now back to your Alpha being in charge” Peter says, and even as he speaks he’s waking Odin gently and leading him over to his dog bed.

“Yes, my Alpha?” Stiles replies, waiting to see where this is going.

“I absolutely insist” growls Peter as he leans in close to Stiles

“That you go upstairs”

He licks the shell of his ear, earning a full body shudder

“And get out of those clothes right now”

He sucks a bruise into Stiles’ neck

“Because, dear rabbit”

Peter pauses again to drag Stiles in for a filthy, needy kiss that promises _everything._

“Yes, husband?” Stiles asks, breathless with anticipation and want. Peter knows how to push all his buttons, in all the best ways.

Peter kisses him again before continuing

“You absolutely _reek_ of dog.”

Stiles laughs then, surprised.

Peter drags him off the sofa and presses him back against the nearest wall, murmuring “And once you take them off, leave them off, sweetheart. I have _plans_.”

Stiles bolts up the stairs, stripping his clothes as he goes, and Peter follows hot on his heels.

Later, Stiles texts their potential new employee and tells him that today’s a write off, and they’ll have to reschedule, because he and Peter have had to take care of important pack business today.

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later Eric comes to the house again, and Odin’s reaction is once again instant and terrifying. He lunges at the man as soon as he steps in the door, and Stiles is reminded suddenly of the dog in Cujo, all fangs and froth and terrifyingly sharp teeth.

“Peter!” He calls as he wrestles the dog, who simply won’t be held back. He strains and pulls against Stiles ten times harder than last time, and Stiles struggles to hold him.

Peter comes down the stairs, takes one look at Eric, and suddenly Stiles has two snarling beasts in the house, as Peter shifts, and roars, and his claws come out and his eyes flash red.

 ** _“Get out!!”_**  he roars, and Eric bolts outside.

Stiles stares between the dog and the wolf, and quickly locks the door before exclaiming “What the fuck, Peter!”

Peter stands there breathing heavily, before pulling Stiles in close and refusing to let go.

“He’s a threat” he pants out, and he’s shaking.

“What sort of threat? What is this Peter? I’ve never seen you like this.” Stiles runs his hands soothingly down Peter’s back.

Peter takes a deep breath and calms himself enough that his fangs recede and he’s able to speak.

‘He smelled like, I don’t know, like danger, he smelled wrong somehow. He smelled like Kate Argent smelled. I don’t know, exactly, but you can bet I’m damned well going to find out” Peter promises, and his tone is determined.

Odin barks approvingly, and rubs his head against both of them.

He’s glad the face hair wolfperson could smell it too. It means they’ll be safe now.

* * *

 

A little digging from the right sources reveals that Eric (not his actual name) is a vigilante hunter.

 Everywhere he’s worked, Weres have disappeared without trace. There’s a spate of disappearances, and they stop when he moves on.

Peter goes to the wardrobe, and pulls out what Stiles calls his Assassin Bag, and tells Stiles “Don’t ask questions, and don’t wait up, and for the love of god don’t open the door if by some chance he makes it back here before I deal with him.”

‘You know I can defend myself, right?’ Stiles reminds his husband, arms folded across his chest.

Peter shakes his head and sighs, before telling him “Stiles, there’s only one way this is going to end, and frankly, I’d rather you weren’t the one to do it. One killer in the family’s enough.”

“Besides” he adds “It won’t come to that. He’s not coming back.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s gone for three days. When he returns, he silently folds Stiles into his arms and they stand there for a long time as he soaks in the calming presence of his mate.

Stiles can feel the rage still thrumming through their bond, can feel as it slowly ebbs away, to be replaced by relief that they're safe, and that he's home.

Finally, Peter speaks.

“He was going to wait until the club was full, block the exits, lock the place down, set it on fire and burn it to the ground.”

His breath hitches on the word _fire._

“Oh Jesus, Peter” Stiles breathes, and holds his mate a little tighter.

“What did you do with the body?” he asks, unable to help himself.

Peter’s expression is stony as he replies “What body? “

“I ripped him to shreds with my claws, and I fed the pieces to a mountain lion.”

Stiles shudders.

“I’m sorry you had to do that Wolfman, but thank you.” Stiles murmurs in his ear.

“You know I’ll do what I have to to protect the pack, rabbit” Peter answers just as quietly.

“Jesus, I should have known when Odin didn’t like him. It’s like my dad always said, don’t trust anyone who your dog doesn’t like. Trust animal instinct.”

Peter snorts at that, and then goes upstairs to soak in a hot bath and try and wipe the memory of the last three days from his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

Odin's happy.

The hairy faced man gave him a giant pile of freshly minced beef, all nice and soft so he can manage it with his missing teeth.

And the bright smile man spent an entire day brushing him and petting him, telling him he's the best guard dog ever, and whispering other things to him softly, and even though Odin doesn't know exactly what all those things are, the house smells of _safe_ and _home_ again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Psst, I caved and now apparently I Tumbl  
> https://bunnywest.tumblr.com/


End file.
